Parenthesis
by eden alice
Summary: 'He had only seen her briefly since her return and already he ached.' Peter/Carla loosely based on the latest spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

(Parenthesis)

At first he does not remember the details of the nightmares. Peter just wakes gasping for breath and sweating with terror, a phantom like pain suddenly crippling his spine. His violent awakening disturbs Leanne once or twice but mostly she sleeps through. He is vague in his explanation when she asks and really its not a lie because he doesn't actually remember anything, he doesn't want to even try to remember. He never wakes her for comfort; he has never been comfortable asking for help especially when lying came like breathing.

But while he does not remember the emotions stays with him like an invisible weight on his shoulders. And he surer than ever that he does not want to remember because he has already lived this and it almost destroyed him. It weighs so heavily and constant and he is back under the rubble and it won't leave him the fuck alone.

He is not one for sentiment but he does not need a calendar to show the first anniversary was approaching. It all seemed to be too soon when not so long ago it was like it would never go away. His bones still ached on the frostier mornings. Logically he understood post traumatic stress, understood that he would never be free of what happened but it did not make it any easier.

And he went to the meetings like normal, he took his son to chess club and he did as his wife asked and yet none of it felt real. The flashbacks started during the day, the noise of a tram triggered the first and eventually they became his dreams and they had leaked into every inch of his life.

They wanted him to make a speech at the memorial ceremony. His father kept on encouraging (pushing) him but all he wants is a drink. Ken finally looks at him like he is proud of him and all Peter wants to do is destroy everything he feels he has not earned. It makes him so angry that everyone acts like it was over because even if he was too much of a coward to face it, it would never be over for him.

When he closes his eyes all he can see is his friend's body, dusty and still, limbs twisted at unnatural angels and yet it did not seem comprehendible that he could just be dead. That he was simply gone. All he felt was the impossible pressure of the wreckage pinning him down.

Peter had never felt so alone and so angry even after a lifetime living with those emotions. _They _had no idea of the sheer horror of that night because they had not been there, not buried and fighting for their lives. And he would always wonder if his marriage was based on guilt and a lie. Maybe if he had not almost died he would have not been so lucky and lost Leanne forever. Sometimes he was not sure which was worse.

The teenager behind the counter of the off licence looks barely above the legal drinking age. He does not even look up long enough to see the look of desolation in his customer's eyes.

Vodka had never really been his drink of choice when he was pretending to be picky but it felt strangely fitting now. Leather did not offer proper protection from the weather, rain threatening to pour at any second as he lingered on a street corner, but he had nowhere else to go. He swallowed back the tears as best he could still trying to lie to himself as he tumbled with the lid. This was one giant step back, yet another reason for those closest to hate him but it was all he had. All he knew to do with all his grief and pain before it destroyed him. Maybe it already had.

The alcohol was a revelation and yet dangerously ordinary all at once. It made him splutter a little and wonder when he stopped being a pro at this. Nearly everyday he tried to summon the courage to talk to his wife, everyday he failed. She was still so unpredictable and paranoid, she still felt so faraway. Admitting he couldn't cope felt like handing her yet another reason to leave him.

There was one person that might understand. Understand how trauma never went away and that alcohol seemed as if the only possible escape. But he could not put this upon her. Not when every feeling he had for her was so complicated. When seeing her felt like even more of a betrayal of his wife than drinking did. He had only seen her briefly since her return and already he ached.

And yet here he was alone and falling off the wagon, not that he had ever been on a real, non metaphorical wagon. But it was just one drink, just one bottle to chase away the nightmares because he could not bear to remember.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a cold walk back from Simon's school, a cold walk that gives Leanne just enough time to get past thinking and into paranoia. She had been trying so hard. She had been trying ever since she made a choice and married Peter and she was exhausted, exhausted of trying to make amends and paying her penance, exhausted of trying to hold her family together and making Peter love her.

It all had gotten so complicated, it was no longer just the two of them in the relationship, her family, his family, Nick, Carla; there was always one of them around all threats and support. It was getting hard to know who to trust. Carla had been her best friend, she had been there throughout Liam's death and although they both weren't saints she expected understanding as she confessed her own affair.

She had not been naïve for a long time but sometimes she knew she was still a little too hopeful. She understood that she started it but there was no way their relationship could survive if Peter still held it over her head. He says he doesn't but sometimes she catches him looking at her and she knows it's not forgotten. If she couldn't fight temptation how much faith could she put in an addict?

There time away had been blissfully ordinary. They had talked briefly but mostly they had just been a family away from the drama from the last few years. She watched Simon play and was finally certain that this was the life she wanted.

Only lately it seemed like the realisation had come too late. Peter seemed so distant and she did not know how to make him talk to her. She had tried the previous night when even Simon picked up on 'daddy's frowny face' but he'd just kissed her and muttered something about going out.

The kiss had not tasted like goodbye but there was an emptiness that frightened her. She had tried to wait up but had fallen asleep in front of the television and woken up still alone so she had taken herself to bed. She hates that she's not sure if he spent the night drinking or if he had been to see Carla but she can't accuse just yet. Not so soon after he promised not to during their time away and she had promised to trust him.

Of course she knew the upcoming anniversary, how could she ever forget. She had almost lost everything that night, she had never been so scared that watching Peter lay so still and broken. It almost seemed like a terrible nightmare now, one that she wanted to put behind them and focus on the positive because they had, against all odds survived.

She finds him in the shop standing darkly over some paperwork and knows that moving forward would never be easy. But still she plasters a smile on her face before he can see her own turmoil.

"Hi ya love." She breezes and it's just enough that his dark eyes light up enough like he still loved her.

"Simon get off okay?" He asks as he smiles gently at her.

"Fine spent the whole journey to school talking about the auditions for this years Christmas play." They both wince a little remembering how Peter had fallen off the wagon and ruined the last play and their son's tears.

And just like that the mood subtly shifts. Leanne watches as Peter's shoulders slump, the shadows under his eyes suddenly look darker. Anger stops her feeling desperate, they all had a past and they both had made mistakes and yet her husband did not seem to be able to stop reliving them. Sometimes it felt like she was the only one trying and he was simply slipping away.

"Can you watch this place? I'm just going to get some fags and take a break." He is already pulling on his leather jacket as he asks and all she feels able to do is nod and let him go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Just wanted to thank everyone for reading and reviewing it really does mean a lot. And yes it's taken a while but Carla is finally in this update.**

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><p>He was tempting fate but he was not really betraying Leanne if they just happened to bump into each other. Peter had no idea what he wanted he just knew that he had to at least see her.<p>

So he was standing outside the corner shop gazing across at the factory but it was a good place as any to smoke and if he happened to see Carla it would purely be accidental. He only really knew she was back because of over hearing Michelle. He had no idea if she was even planning on returning to work.

He had stared at his phone the pervious night. Ignoring Leanne's calls and repeatedly almost ringing Carla. But he had nothing and too much to say all at once. It didn't seem right when he was already betraying Leanne by drinking. He had not got so drunk he couldn't hide it. Half a bottle was now carefully hidden, his own dirty little secret. Part of him was proud of his self of control, that he had been able to make himself stop without drinking the whole bottle. Most of him just hated the way he avoided kissing his wife, so sure that she'd still be able to taste it on his tongue. She did not deserve his weakness.

Hayley had opened the factory earlier that morning, he had watched her hurry the last few stragglers inside as he waved goodbye to his son. He was still a little shocked after being told that Carla was willing to give in and lose the factory. After everything she had been through he understood but the idea of her giving up made him his insides tighten painfully with anxiety.

Carla was a powerful business woman who had literally rebuilt the factory from a pile of ashes. It was part of who she was and he hated how that poor excuse for a man threatened to take yet more away from her.

He could not help but to worry about her. He could not help but miss her. He wondered when it became so hard to live without her.

The wind made lighting his third cigarette a little tricky as he cupped his hands around the lighter a little guilty and waiting on someone to comment on his chain smoking. Only he was alone, it was the time of morning when everyone had managed to get where they were meant to be.

But just as he inhales the familiar smoke a taxi pulls up in front of the factory and his heart constricts in his chest because he knows it's her even when he doesn't know what his feelings mean.

She trots out of the taxi in shoes that look ridiculously high and for a moment he feels uncomfortable and unwanted. She looked better, still a little more slim and breakable than he'd like but she looked less drawn. She moved with more confidence than he had seen in her for a while.

For a moment its enough just to see her, knowing that she was still fighting and feeling selfish for falling apart himself. He had no idea what he wanted from this woman who was more temptation that he had ever known. He should just walk away.

She looks over her shoulder just before she can open the factory doors. She stops and looks right at him like she knows and he finds himself routed to the spot.

They must look silly both stood awkwardly staring at one another from across the street. The taxi finally drives away and Peter takes the broken moment to move. With one hand buried in his jean pocket he raised the other in a half wave.

She smiles in return and seems to take another moment to make a decision before she starts walking towards him. He is glad that she takes the decision out of his hands and stubs out his last cigarette, all the nicotine and alcohol was starting to give him a nagging tension headache.

"Hey" She says biting her bottom lip and stopping a little too far away than he would have liked. She looked as strangely nervous as he felt.

"Morning love," He smiled back reassuringly "It's good to see you back."

"Yeah you too." She rocked on her heels a little and adjusted the strap of her bag so it didn't fall of her shoulder. "Not used to the fabulous English weather yet."

Peter chuckled a little, "Well the tan looks good on you." It really did, she seemed well rested, almost glowing. "Not much sun in Cornwall I'm afraid but it didn't stop Simon enjoying himself."

She coos a little and raises an eyebrow at her own sentimentality. She enjoyed the company of children more than most would ever realise. Everyone seemed to miss how she was always one of the first people Ryan would turn too, till she let him down anyway.

They fall into silence and for once it is not strained or loaded. He almost feels able to relax in the first time in over a week.

"How are you doing?" He asks and cringes a little internally because he feels like he should already know.

He had texted her once since their last meeting, an ambiguous 'Stay safe, I'll talk to you soon'. She never messaged him back, how could she with his wife scrutinising his every move. He had not expected her to be gone when they returned home, and when he heard that he had left her struggling he felt overwhelmed and powerless.

"You know me, can't keep me down for long." She winked with her normal superficial front that had not fooled him for a long time. He frowned sceptically till she answered more honestly. "Better, or at least more focused now I've got Chelly to help save the day."

He wants to tell her that she shouldn't have to still be fighting that evil bastard. He wants to tell her that she has him too and he would never let anything bad happen to her. Trouble was it already had and the hurt kept coming no matter what anyone thought.

"Good," he nodded pretending he could not see the through the cracks in her new found confidence. It was as if his pain could identify hers but it was impossible to put his own aside and be the supportive friend he thought she deserved. "I'm glad. I missed you." He admitted.

And he really had missed her. For some reason he woke up terrified and she was the only one he wanted to run to. Because she would understand, Carla had never judged him. The times he had fallen and she had stubbornly stuck by him and treated him with a mock nonchalant that made everything seem a little less impossible.

Her eyes narrowed, looking startlingly green in the harsh sunlight. He couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable as she scrutinised him. "Peter, are you okay?" She finally asks and he is relieved and uncomfortable all at once because she just knows. She just knows and he didn't even have to ask for help.

"I'm fine" He finds himself speaking automatically, unwilling to admit his failure. He was meant to be the one getting her sober not loading his own problems onto her shoulders.

Carla laughed humorously clearly not believing him and stared waiting for him to answer honestly. There was no escape.

"Or I might be having a mini crisis but it's nothing for you to worry about."

He hates the way she looks at him, so tender and filled with love and he wants to shake her because how could she possibly have feelings for someone as pathetic as him? She was beautiful and successful and at times uncontrollable and so far out of his league.

"The tram crash," She breathes out a shudder like it haunts her as well. And he thinks it is less frightening now she has named the monster that lurks on the edge of his subconscious.

"Have you been drinking?" She asks and he can only nod.

Carla's face falls in disappointment and concern but she doesn't seem angry.

"Do you want me to talk to Leanne?" She asks finally because somehow she already knows that he had not breathed a word of this to anyone else. And maybe she was trying to help make it better but the panic and anger in him wished she wouldn't. He was so sure he did not want his wife to know any of this. And it coming from Carla would only lead to more trouble. It was just such a mess.

"No don't you dare." He hissed and immediately regretted snapping at her.

She did not seem fazed and simply reached out and squeezed his hand. Her skin was chilled and smooth as he remembered. "I won't. It's okay. I'm here Peter."

She was so close and gazing down into her eyes suddenly felt like the most intimate time they had shared together. He finds himself letting his thumb stroke small circles on the side of her hand.

"Fuck, what are we like?" He laughs bitterly knowing she would appreciate the morbidity or the situation.

"The drunk leading the drunk." She rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand a little tighter at their shared joke.

There were a thousand reasons why this, them, was dangerous but he also realised it was exactly what he needed, even if he knew it could not last.

"I should go. Leanne will be wondering where I am." It wasn't really running away when it was the truth. He did not feel ready to face his nightmares head on, all he wanted was to burry it all under dull, mundane tasks that made up daily life.

"Don't want to get you in trouble again. But please, please call me if you need me. Or go to a meeting. Just don't struggle alone. Promise me Peter." She would never let him off the hook, not entirely. The way she looked at him, she looked right through him and he could not say no to her.

"Promise," He whispered and turned to leave only to change his mind. "And thanks Carla it is really good to see you home again."

Her smile at his words was wide and her most open in months. She was still worried for him but understood she had done all she could. "What are friend for." She murmured as she watched him leave.


End file.
